I bit into an apple that I thought was still fresh.
I thought I had more time to enjoy it.
My teeth sank into the core—
Just like every single one that had come before.
The outside was mostly intact;
A few soft spots here and there but overall,
It showed promise.
It showed strength.
But the second I bit into it?
There was no sweet taste on the tip of my tongue,
I spit it out, but the damage was already done.
I had made my mark.
I had taken my chance.
I could never go back.
And now I every time I pick up an apple,
I pause and remember the day I learned
To not be so trusting.